


It is so quite new a thing.

by andnowforyaya



Series: B.A.P Bingo Challenge Fills [4]
Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Bodyswap, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Multi, Soulmates, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:12:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4335173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Monday morning, Daehyun wakes up as his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

One Monday morning, Daehyun wakes up as his best friend. Things could be worse; at least he didn’t wake up a cockroach. It must be the first Monday of the month. First Mondays are always strange because of the pull of the moon.

Anyway, he wakes up as Youngjae, rolls out of bed like he’s still Daehyun, and spends about an hour and a half getting ready in Youngjae’s private bathroom -- a privilege for those chosen to be student council representatives in their year. He’s most certainly _not_ investigating Youngjae’s junk, but does indeed give it a perfunctory glance and tickle, just to test that it’s all in working order. He styles his hair the way he would as Daehyun, but the effect is all wrong. Instead, he brushes his hands through Youngjae’s dark, sleek hair and lets it fall naturally, which suits Youngjae much better.

He wonders idly how Youngjae is handling woken up as him, if he’s styling Daehyun’s hair the way Daehyun would normally style it. He dresses in their school uniform -- a white shirt and navy pants -- and pins the student council button on one collar of the shirt. Then he takes it off and pins it on the other side of his collar. What side is it supposed to be on again?

Shrugging, Daehyun repins the button and roots around for Youngjae’s school bag. Despite being a member of student council, Youngjae lives in something resembling a pigsty, with books everywhere and loose leaf paper covering almost every bit of floor. Various snack wrappers litter the flat surfaces in the room. Daehyun considers cleaning up, but it will have to wait until after class.

Taking a deep breath and looping the strap of Youngjae’s school bag over his shoulders, he takes hold of the doorknob and twists and pushes, stepping out into the world.

.

It isn’t strange being Youngjae. They swap bodies once every other month on account of being soulmates. On the off months, sometimes their senses and perceptions bleed together instead, so Daehyun will be in the library studying and feel a sting in his knee, and know Youngjae has probably taken a tumble on the hard stone steps.

Daehyun has known Youngjae since primary school, since they were small enough to be intimidated by the swing sets on the playground. They used to catch fireflies together in their palms during the humid summers of Seoul, and when they were in junior high school, their families started to come together to take a week-long trip to Busan, where they would hunt for little clams instead. Youngjae didn’t like seafood much -- still doesn’t -- but it didn’t matter, because Daehyun would take whatever Youngjae didn’t want. It went like this for years, until Youngjae’s sixteenth birthday (Daehyun had turned sixteen just a couple of months prior), and then it wasn’t a surprise at all when the switch happened. Somehow, they always knew they were soulmates.

Waking up in each other’s bodies did not feel foreign or strange, but rather more like the natural progression of things. Their parents took it well, and the next week Daehyun and Youngjae were going back to their boarding high school.

Discovered Soulmates are allowed to remain together during Body Swap Day (or in more academic circles, Soul Exchange Occurrence), and even though the common belief was that soulmates used this allowed time to indulge in their more carnal interests, Daehyun and Youngjae often found themselves staying up the whole night talking instead.

They were lucky because they knew each other before the Soul Exchange Occurrence happened the first time; there was no uncertainty or ambiguity. They can’t imagine a pair of soulmates experiencing that initial swap without any idea. What if they were on opposite sides of the planet and had never met before? What if they hated each other?

Sometimes Daehyun likes to imagine what they would have done if they were soulmates in a time before social media and phones. He would have written messages to Youngjae, ink on his skin, left to dry and remain for Youngjae to read when they switch back their bodies in the morning. He would have flirted, drawn pictures, left trinkets for Youngjae to discover. “What a romantic,” Youngjae always says drily in response. “I would write my name and contact information on your arm, and leave it up to you to find me.”

Daehyun grins at the memory. As other students begin to rouse and leave their rooms, his feet take him to his own room, just down the hall. He knocks on the door, and when there’s no answer, opens it.

“Morning, sunshine,” Daehyun says with Youngjae’s voice. He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and tosses the school bag onto the floor, throwing himself onto the bed that is occupied. Daehyun’s roommate, Jongup, must have left already. The other boy was always rising before the sun in order to get a few more hours of dance practice into the day.

“Grrgg,” the boy in the bed says, rolling himself into his covers, away from Daehyun. It’s strange to watch himself through Youngjae’s eyes. The other boy’s hair is messy all over, and his eyes are puffy from lack of sleep. He groans again, blinking and sitting up slowly as Daehyun rights himself, too. “Who are you?”

Daehyun knows Youngjae. He knows all of Youngjae’s quirks and idiosyncrasies. The way he blinks, tilts his head, scratches his chin to keep from biting his fingers. This boy yawns hugely, and when he settles again his face is all wrong: his lips pout in a way Daehyun’s never seen Youngjae pout, his eyes narrow and gleam, and right before Daehyun his own jawline seems to sharpen. “It’s me,” Daehyun says slowly, incredulous, heart pounding hard in his chest. “It’s Daehyun. I mean, it’s-me-Daehyun-but-looking-like-Youngjae.”

“Well,” the boy who looks like Daehyun says, his face pinched, “both of those names don’t mean anything to me. But I’m Kim Himchan.”

.


	2. Chapter 2

“So you’re Kim Himchan?” Daehyun says, stepping forward after a moment of wrinkling his -- Youngjae’s -- brow. He will not panic. “Um, where’s Youngjae?”

He watches Himchan take his face through a series of expressions he’s never seen on his own face before, and wonders what Himchan looks like when he’s inside of his own body. He probably has a fairly narrow face, Daehyun thinks, and smaller eyes. His expression of surprise on Daehyun’s face would almost be comical if Daehyun weren’t so worried in that moment about his missing soul mate. 

“I don’t know,” Himchan finally says, biting into his bottom lip. He scratches the back of his head, and then he swings his legs over the side of the bed with great effort, sitting up. “Is he -- who would normally be here?”

“Yeah,” Daehyun says as the boy on his bed examines Daehyun’s fingernails like they’re the finest fingernails he’s ever seen. Daehyun’s mind slowly fills itself with questions and worry. He realizes with great dread that he has no idea where Youngjae’s soul is in this moment, and an empty feeling wells up inside of him too quickly to contain. A choked sort of sob leaves his mouth. Himchan, alarmed, at the noise, looks up from examining Daehyun’s knuckles and how much they bend. “Where is he?” Daehyun demands again, and now the shock of the situation has slipped past him, and in its place there is anger. He strides forward and manages to stand in front of Himchan with some authority, Youngjae’s student council button shining on his collar. “Where’s Youngjae? If this is some sort of joke, or prank, it’s  _cruel_ . What have you done with him?”

“Nothing!” Himchan scowls at Daehyun, seemingly unmoved. “I...don’t know how this happened, either, okay? As far as I know, I don’t have a soulmate. I don't know why this happened. Or how.” He hunches over himself at the confession, drawing the covers around him.

“This isn’t a joke?”

“If it is, I wasn’t involved in the planning.”

If Himchan was in Daehyun’s body, and Daehyun was in Youngjae's, where else could Youngjae have gone? “Could he be...wherever you were, last?”

This gives Himchan pause. It takes a long moment for him to say, “I’m not sure.”

“Well, can you call him? Yourself, I mean. Can you call yourself and then we can figure out where he is?” And find him and make sure he’s safe and okay, Daehyun finishes in his mind. He takes his phone out of his back pocket and hands it to Himchan, who stares at the offering.

“I don’t...have one of those,” Himchan says quietly.

“You don’t have a cell phone?” Daehyun feels his brow wrinkle again, but tries to keep his frustration in check. Plenty of kids still don’t have cell phones, he thinks. Clearly, Himchan is one of them. He sighs, trying to think of another way to reach Youngjae quickly and coming up short. Himchan goes on examining Daehyun’s fingernails again. He starts to experiment with rolling Daehyun’s wrists in circles as though amazed by the movement of the joint.

Daehyun feels a prickle of annoyance at the other boy. He doesn’t think this is a big deal at all! How can he be so nonchalant about this? Youngjae is out there somewhere, alone, confused--

Crossing his arms across his chest, Daehyun says, “I think we should talk to a teacher. They’ll know what to do. If this has happened before. Maybe they can help. Maybe they can help put you back into whatever body you’re supposed to be in that isn’t ours -- I mean mine and Youngjae’s.”

This statement finally seems to spark some sense of urgency into the other boy, but it’s not the kind of urgency Daehyun wanted. Himchan’s eyes grow wide, and his cheeks pale. “We shouldn’t,” he says. “I mean, I don’t think that’s what we should do. Not right away, anyway--”

“But they’ll know--”

Himchan shakes his head. “They’ll have more questions than answers. They won’t be helpful.” It looks like there is more that Himchan wants to say, but he chooses to remain silent. Daehyun, agitated, sits down next to him on the bed heavily.

“Then what do you think we should do,” he says through clenched teeth.

“Look for him ourselves,” Himchan says readily. “Where are we, anyway?”

“National School for the Arts,” Daehyun says offhand, but he doesn’t miss the way Himchan’s eyes light up at those words. “And _you_ just said you wouldn’t know where he was. So how are we going to look for him?”

“My memory was all foggy,” Himchan explains. “Maybe because of the weird Soul Swap, but now it’s kind of coming back. You say this is the School? He’s probably not far, then.”

“What? What do you mean?” Now it’s Daehyun’s turn to stare at Himchan with wide eyes. His heart begins to beat faster just at the thought of being reunited with Youngjae.

“I -- live in the area,” Himchan says slowly, like he’s thinking about the words quite a lot before he says them. “Youngjae won’t be far.”

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so so sorry for the long wait /o\ i am struggling with inspiration these days, but determined to finish this story!!!! thanks for your patience <3


	3. Chapter 3

The bus they take leads them away from the center of the city, and soon the school’s campus falls away, replaced by blocks cluttered with delis and marts, and then by apartment building after apartment building, with parks in between. They sit together, carefully not touching as the bus rumbles over the streets. Himchan stares out the window and Daehyun tries and fails not to look at the reflection of himself in the glass, because the reflection is of Daehyun and Youngjae, two Academy boys skipping class for the day.

But Youngjae is not here, Daehyun reminds himself, tearing his gaze away from the reflection and noticing the change in scenery. Daehyun quickly realizes that when Himchan said that he lived in the area, he meant in the same general city.

Unable to handle the silence between them, Daehyun asks, “Are you a student?”

“Huh?” Himchan turns in his seat, swinging his gaze around to him.

“Are you a student?” Daehyun repeats.

Himchan bites into his lower lip and hesitates in answering. “Not anymore,” he says reluctantly.

“Graduated?” Daehyun guesses.

“A bit ago, yeah,” Himchan says.

“So that makes you my hyung,” Daehyun says, sitting back and jutting out his lower lip. “I was going to ask if we could speak comfortably, but I guess not since you’re older.”

At this, Himchan smirks, and Daehyun automatically smiles back, the way he would with Youngjae. “I guess not,” Himchan agrees.

After a couple more stops, they alight, and Himchan guides Daehyun to his apartment building, the walk silent save for the hum of traffic and buzzing insects. Out here, it feels like they are the only two students who exist in the world. Daehyun catches a glimpse of himself in the side paneling of a parked car and sees Youngjae and finds himself wondering what Himchan looks like, how he would behave if he were in Himchan’s body instead, how Youngjae is faring in this stranger’s form.

What happened that resulted in this mistake? He imagines the world’s soulmates, connected to each other by invisible strings. Eventually, strings must get tangled, right? Tangled and rerouted and lost. A sinking feeling numbs his heart. He has to find Youngjae.

Himchan slows, looking back at him uncertainly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Daehyun says immediately, then scrunches his nose. “I don’t know. This has never happened before and honestly I’m really worried and I’m trying really, really hard not to have some sort of crying fit, mental breakdown right now. I just want to find him.”

“What’s he like?” Himchan asks, and Daehyun notices that he doesn’t address the other bit, the worrying, crying fit bit. He thinks this is probably a good thing, because it makes him think about Youngjae and the parts he loves about him.

“He’s a jerk,” Daehyun says immediately, smiling to himself. “Once, he told me no one would ever love me because it costs too much to feed me.”

Himchan matches pace with him and frowns, a furrow forming in his brow. “That -- sounds kind of awful?”

“Well, he fell in love with me. So I guess the joke’s on him!” Daehyun exclaims. Then, in a lighter tone: “He’s only a jerk like 10% of the time. The other 90%, he’s a big caring nerd. He makes me soup when I’m sick, and fluffs my pillows. He likes video games. He always lets me eat off his plate. He stands up for me when I don’t even realize I need it. He’s -- my soulmate. He’s perfect.”

Daehyun flushes, unsure why he’d rambled for so long. It’s only been a couple of hours and he already misses Youngjae so much. When Himchan meets his gaze, there’s another little smirk on his lips.

“Okay, he sounds great,” Himchan acknowledges. Daehyun nods definitively, not trusting himself to speak again.

They turn a corner and meet the face of an apartment building -- plain, tan, and tall. It’s an older building, clear from the simple structure, but Daehyun happens to see Himchan’s face when they’re in front of it, and it’s him looking at himself through Youngjae’s eyes, the gaze far away, breath held; a face full of longing and hope. He shakes his head as though to clear his thoughts and reset his brain. He is Daehyun, he reminds himself. The person inside of his body, this other soul, is not.

Himchan meets his look, but his expression shutters quickly as his face closes off again. “This is it,” Himchan says, and enters the lobby.

.


	4. Chapter 4

Light trickles into the lobby through a thin layer of dust on the windows, muting the sickly green color of the walls - popular decades ago - though it does nothing to mask the slight musky scent in the air, like something damp and mildewing has been left unattended for weeks. The lobby breaks into two hallways and contains a staircase straight ahead, and this Himchan climbs, glancing over his shoulder at Daehyun apologetically.

“The maintenance isn’t always this bad,” Himchan says, looking around at the cobwebs visible in the corners. A light down one hallways buzzes, the electricity fizzling in and out.

Daehyun shrugs, following Himchan up the stairs. His own family’s apartment in another city, Busan, isn’t anything to boast over, and this place kind of reminds him of it. It might even be fitting, Daehyun thinks, that Youngjae has wound up in a place that reminds Daehyun of his childhood home. “Nothing you can do about it, I guess,” he offers pleasantly, noting the way Himchan’s eyes soften at his response. He smiles. “I just hope Youngjae is still here.”

“Yeah,” Himchan grunts, turning back around and taking the stairs two at a time. Daehyun scampers to keep up, thanking the higher power that governs soul exchanges for granting him Youngjae’s slightly longer legs today. The thought of finding Youngjae makes him feel light as air. Four flights later, Himchan pauses in front of apartment 522.

Daehyun, unable to contain his excitement, shoves into Himchan’s space beside the door and begins pounding on the barrier. “Youngjae!” he shouts. “It’s me! Youngjae!”

Himchan shakes his head, his expression a strange mix of amused and forlorn. Daehyun thinks he’s never seen himself make that face before, and it sits oddly in his eyes and line of his mouth.

“Open the door,” Daehyun pouts at him, when no answer from the other side is forthcoming.

“I was going to, you know,” Himchan says. He pushes Daehyun away with a gentle hand and reaches up with the other, standing on his toes to reach above the door jamb, where he slides his fingers back and forth over the small ledge there, looking for something. With a soft, ‘ha!’, he finds what he’s looking for, bringing down a dull looking key caked in dust. “Spare,” he says with a shrug when he notices Daehyun looking at him curiously.

The key is a little sticky, and Daehyun taps his feet in obvious impatience, but it lets them in, and no sooner does Himchan have the door open than Daehyun is on the other side of it, remembering to kick off his shoes as he calls out for Youngjae again, his voice booming and resonant against the walls.

“Youngjae! Are you here?!”

It’s like entering a tomb. Daehyun stills immediately, the breath sucked out of him. The apartment opens into the kitchen and living room, with doors on one side breaking off into what he assumes will be bedrooms. Everything has been covered by a thin white cloth -- the sofa in the living room, the fat television sitting on top of a short and long bookcase. The floor creaks under him when he takes another step inside, staring at the dust motes in the air.

“I thought you said you lived here,” Daehyun whispers as Himchan appears beside him, silent. He’d moved so carefully, as though afraid to disturb the air.

“I did,” Himchan says. “We’ve, um, moved recently. But I was here before, just taking care of some last minute things.” He tugs at the collar of his shirt and clears his throat before leaving Daehyun to roam the apartment slowly, his hand trailing over the cloth-covered sofa, something tight in the set of his shoulders. “You should see if he’s here.”

Though skeptical now, Daehyun does so, striding across the living room to open one of the doors. Just the bathroom. He closes it and opens the next one, but it’s empty, totally cleared out. The third and last door he opens leads to a bedroom, where a twin-sized bed still sits, tucked into a corner. There’s a desk, too, and a small wardrobe. No Youngjae, but Daehyun enters, exploring.

When he sits on the bed, a cloud of dust rises up around him, making his eyes water and throat sting. He moves to the wardrobe through the haze, opening it. There’s a lone hanger inside but no clothing. He doesn’t know why he does it, but then he goes to the desk, opening all the drawers he sees, his back to the door. The first drawer contains a stubby 2B pencil, and the second a couple of novelty erasers. The third drawer he opens contains an envelope. He takes it out. It hasn’t been sealed. On one side someone has written, ‘graduation pictures’.

He thumbs through them, taking one out at random, and sees two boys wearing a school uniform. It looks a lot like the uniform he’s wearing today, actually. One boy has dimpled cheeks and thin-rimmed glasses, his smile short but lighting up his whole face. The other boy is handsome in a stoic sort of way, his smile brilliant and blinding. They’re smiling at each other.

“We should get going.”

Himchan startles him out of his examination of the photo. His back still to the other boy, Daehyun folds the picture and stuffs it into his shirt near his waist. He opens the second drawer, putting the envelope back into the desk.

“What did you find?” Himchan asks.

“Just come cute erasers,” Daehyun says, taking one out and presenting it to Himchan between his fingers. It’s an eraser in the shape of french fries. The drawer slides shut behind him. “You really cleared everything out, huh?” Daehyun continues. “Where did you say you were moving?”

“Gyeongi-do,” Himchan says easily. He turns and waves at Daehyun with his hands. “C’mon. If Youngjae’s not here, we should look nearby. He’s probably looking for you, too.”

.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time they leave the apartment building, the sun is high in the sky and on its slow descent. Daehyun squints up at it, wondering if Youngjae can see it where he is, wondering if he's staring up at it, too. Youngjae always told him not to do that or he'd ruin his eyes. For some reason, Daehyun is calm. Has been uncharacteristically calm the whole day despite not knowing where Youngjae is. The little flare ups throughout the morning of feeling and worry feel very far away, now. Maybe because it feels like Youngjae’s not really gone.

Himchan directs them to and fro on the street in his old neighborhood, stopping into convenience stores and marts, as they circle and look for Youngjae. But Daehyun watches how Himchan lets his fingers graze over a chipped stone in the corner of a building before turning down another street, how he pauses and bites his lips in front of a small shop lot with its windows boarded shut and a sign in faded paint above the door. Himchan leads and Daehyun follows as they flit back and forth, sometimes so quickly Daehyun wonders if other people even see them.

Daehyun buys them a snack of rice balls at the next mart they stop in, walking the length of the store to look for Youngjae but finding nothing but cheap toys and dusty shelves in the back. Himchan says, distracted, mouth full of rice, “We’ll keep looking.”

Daehyun moves the picture in his shirt to his pants pocket when Himchan, unseeing, is in front of him again. He lets his fingers rub over the creases. He wants to ask Himchan about it, about the two boys. About the uniform and why it looks so similar. But Himchan’s feet won’t stop moving, and they carry him through his old neighborhood quickly and for a long time, until the sun is just skimming the tops of the buildings and their shadows are long.

“We’ll keep looking after dinner,” Himchan announces, rubbing his belly with a hand and grinning back at Daehyun. “No use looking when we’re dead tired.”

It’s only then that Daehyun realizes how tired he is. Numb and void, but peaceful. Full of something tranquil. He closes his eyes standing and sees white.

Himchan takes them to a small restaurant specializing in chicken soup, and the old _halmeoni_ there clucks her tongue at them and tells them to sit so she can give them a hearty meal to fill out their bones. They sit, Daehyun’s head still light, everything hazy. There’s only one thing to order here, and Himchan orders it.

“I used to come here all the time when it first opened,” Himchan tells him excitedly, clapping his hands together. Daehyun can see the eagerness in his eyes, can imagine that’s exactly what he himself looks like when he’s waiting for his next meal. He grins.

“You must miss it,” Daehyun says. “Being here.”

“I didn’t think I did,” Himchan says. “But now that I’m here…There are so many things that I miss.”

The soup comes, steam rising from the giant clay bowl. The _halmeoni_ sets it down in front of them and Himchan leans over it, breathing it in.

“Do you have a soulmate?” Daehyun asks, catching Himchan unawares, watching how he tenses, the line of his shoulders tight.

“Not that I know of,” Himchan says uneasily, avoiding Daehyun's eyes but quickly using his chopsticks to stuff kimchi into his mouth. He says with his mouth full, and it seems to be a habit of his, “Not everyone has one, you know.”

“I know,” Daehyun says as gently as he can. “I’m just trying to figure out how this happened, still.” He thinks about the two boys in the picture he found in Himchan’s room, how they’d been looking at each other, eyes full of light.

“There’s one person,” Himchan says, “who I hoped would be. But he belonged to someone else.”

“Belonged?”

“Belongs,” Himchan says, clearing his throat. “He was my best friend. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Since you moved?” Daehyun presses.

“Yeah. Since then.” A heaviness settles over Himchan. He sips at the soup lightly, as though he’s lost his appetite. “Some people believe in soul reincarnation,” Himchan says. “Do you believe in that?”

“Yes.” Daehyun says this with certainty, punctuating it with a loud sip from his spoon. “I think I’ve lived a dozen lives with Youngjae. Sometimes I feel something so deep for him I know it must have spanned multiple lifetimes.” Daehyun is shameless with his love; he’s always been like that. Himchan flushes.

“I believe in mistakes,” Himchan says, the red rising on his cheeks. “Like, maybe I just missed mine, my soulmate. Maybe I won’t miss them the next time.”

“So you believe in soul reincarnation?”

Himchan shrugs. “I guess I want to believe in it. I have to.”

They finish their dinner. Daehyun shows Himchan pictures of Youngjae on his phone. Pictures of him and Youngjae at Seoul Tower. Pictures of him and Youngjae at the beach, at the zoo, on a date, a picnic, at a football game.

“You look happy with him,” Himchan says, a note of longing in his voice.

There’s a banner up in the back of the restaurant, the letters on it a little faded. Daehyun sees it when Himchan leaves the table to use the restroom. _Celebrating 40 years!_ the banner once proudly read.

.


	6. Chapter 6

With bellies full of chicken, Daehyun and Himchan leave the restaurant to enter streets as the shop signs are just starting to light up neon. It gives Daehyun an odd feeling, being out on this street, familiar but also not. Lost but comfortable. He feels displaced, like someone dropped him here without checking in with him first. The neighborhood, he realizes, looks like it hasn’t changed much in a couple of decades.

“Does Youngjae like games?” Himchan asks Daehyun, lights coming on around them. Night is falling fast, and there’s a chill in the air.

“He loves them,” Daehyun says, suppressing a shiver. “Always beats me at them.”

“He might have found the arcade,” Himchan suggests. “Let’s go there next.”

By now, Daehyun knows Youngjae isn’t here, not in this place, not when the little lost feeling in his bones pulls at him. Still, Himchan’s eyes light up, and a flare of empathy wells up inside of Daehyun, and he agrees to check out the arcade.

Himchan knows the way by heart. Daehyun's breath catches in his throat when Himchan takes his hand easily and drags him down the street and then left, then right, then straight. Himchan’s hand is cold, Daehyun thinks, before he remembers that it’s not really Himchan’s hand he is holding, but his own. Anyone looking at them now would see Daehyun and Youngjae, soulmates since before they were born.

“There’s a game here that’s great,” Himchan says. “You’re a spaceship and you have to shoot down alien spaceships as they fall. I used to have the high score, but Bbang--”

Himchan stops in front of a boarded up storefront, the space where there should be a sign blank save for the residual outline of what was once the name of the arcade. The flyer on the boards claims the shop will return soon. “Undergoing Renovations,” it reads in faded black ink. Dated almost five years ago.

“Is this it?” Daehyun asks, still holding Himchan’s hand. His hand feels smaller then, and Daehyun holds it tighter. “Was this it?”

“I don’t understand,” Himchan says, pulling away and stepping right up to the boards and peering through the cracks. “It was open when I -- moved.”

“To Gyeongi-do,” Daehyun supplies for him, and Himchan doesn’t quite meet his eyes when he looks over his shoulder at him to nod. “And how long ago was that?”

Himchan doesn’t answer. He doesn’t answer for a long time, still looking through the slats into the old arcade like he could find a spark of something alive in there, but there’s nothing. Daehyun steps forward tentatively, heart skipping up to his throat, and puts a hand on his shoulder. Himchan jumps, and then he sighs, letting his forehead fall to the dusty wood.

“I’m sorry,” Himchan mumbles, and this confirms Daehyun's suspicions, and the world comes to a screeching halt. 

“Is he okay?” Daehyun asks. “Is Youngjae okay...wherever he is?”

When Himchan turns around, his eyes are dark and full of sorrow. “I don’t know,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“Is he coming back?” Daehyun asks through his teeth, tears suddenly springing into his eyes. They fall down his cheeks unhindered, and he knows Himchan is focusing on his tears so he doesn’t have to look him in the eyes. “Is Youngjae coming back, Himchan?”

He feels Himchan pull him forward hesitantly, and Daehyun crushes himself against him, seeking comfort. The body is familiar even if Himchan is new. Himchan strokes up and down his back lightly, apologizing into his ear. “I don’t know,” he keeps saying. “I’m sorry.”

Closing his eyes tight, Daehyun sniffles into Himchan’s shoulder, his fingers tightly fisted against Himchan’s chest. “Did you do this?” he asks.

Himchan shakes his head. “I didn’t ask for this.”

Daehyun believes him.

.

They ride the bus back to school. Daehyun sits closer to the window, and Himchan takes the partner seat. Halfway through the ride, exhaustion catches up to Daehyun and he lets himself lean against Himchan’s shoulder. In the glass, they are Youngjae and Daehyun.

“When did you figure it out?” Himchan asks him. His hand is curled loosely around Daehyun’s over his thigh.

Daehyun takes the picture out of his pocket. It’s crumpled now, the creases showing, but the two boys in it are still smiling at each other. He shows it to Himchan. “The date here,” Daehyun says, pointing. “1985. I thought maybe it was your dad or something, but then...the restaurant...and the arcade...”

Himchan takes the picture from him. He smiles fondly at the two boys, smoothing the photo out over his lap.

“Sorry it got wrinkled.”

“No,” Himchan says, “I’m glad you took it from my old room. I’m glad I got to see it again. This is -- this is me,” Himchan says, pointing at the boy in the glasses. It looks like it would be him, Daehyun realizes. A gentle, warm soul. “And this is Bbang,” Himchan says, pointing at the other boy. “He was my best friend.”

“You look close,” Daehyun says, letting himself shift on Himchan’s shoulder.

“He knew everything about me.”

“What happened to you?”

Himchan doesn’t answer. His hand grips the photo, and his shoulders rise and fall in exhalation. “I don’t remember,” he admits.

.

They go back to Youngjae’s room, walking close together, their steps slow and deliberate. It’s late enough that most of the other students are studying in the library, or catching up with friends in their dorm rooms. In front of Youngjae’s door, Himchan fidgets.

“Should I -- go to your room? Or --”

“Stay,” Daehyun says, his fingers finding Himchan’s elbow, steadying him. “Get some rest.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea--”

Daehyun opens the door and nudges Himchan inside, too tired to be vocal. A part of him wants to be angry with Himchan, but a larger part of him knows this was not his fault. He closes the door behind him, sits on Youngjae’s messy bed. He feels heavy. Finally, he whispers, “I want Youngjae back, but if he can’t be here right now, then I want to be close to him, and for some reason I think -- I think you’re the closest I can get, right now.”

 _I’m sorry,_ Himchan’s eyes say, again. Daehyun shakes his head, indicating towards the bathroom. “You can take it, first.”

They wash up separately, getting ready for bed. There are already two sets of everything anyway, from the frequent nights Daehyun spends in Youngjae’s room. Daehyun crawls into bed in his pajamas, pushing himself into the corner out of habit because Youngjae tends to sprawl, but stops short when Himchan places a tentative knee on the mattress, also, making it dip and squeak.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Himchan says, eyeing the carpet.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Daehyun says kindly.

Himchan clambers in slowly, and they settle, face-to-face. “I’m glad I met you,” Himchan says. “I’m glad it was you.”

“I’m glad I met you, too, Himchan,” Daehyun says with a sad, small smile. He closes his eyes, feels the feather-light touch of Himchan’s lips on his forehead, and doesn’t push him away.

“Good night, Daehyun.”

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note I had to update ch 4 and 5 a bit because I realized Daehyun has no idea what Himchan actually looks like so he couldn’t have known who was who in the picture he found in Himchan's old room.


	7. Chapter 7

Warm, bright light peeks through the open blinds covering the window over the bed. Daehyun rolls onto his side, attempting to wedge himself against the wall to avoid the brightness and to continue sleeping, but gasps when he rolls right off the bed with a crash.

Luckily, it is a short drop, but he still manages to land heavily on his bottom as he takes half of the bedding down with him. “Ow…” he cries to himself, rubbing his backside and forcing his eyes open. Youngjae’s pigsty floor greets him, papers strewn everywhere, stacks of books like little islands on the carpet. He rubs his eyes with his fists, sighing, then sits blankly for a moment, staring at the room.

He looks down at his hands. _His_ hands. Tan, smooth skin and short fingers and the ring he never takes off on his index finger. He touches his face with his hands. Feels his cheeks, the shape of them, his nose, his lips.

He’s back in his own body.

Abruptly, he remembers yesterday, and going to bed with Himchan. He remembers Himchan kissing his forehead so lightly it could have been a breeze. He flings himself up and over the side of the bed, resting on his elbows.

Youngjae, or Youngjae’s body, is curled up on his side facing him, eyes closed, still sleeping. He breathes deeply, at peace, and Daehyun thinks he’s beautiful. His delicately shaped nose, the sweeping curve of his eyelashes, his tapered chin. He could look at Youngjae forever and find something new about him to love every passing minute. He hesitates in waking him up.

Finally, he crawls back into bed, careful, his heart beating wildly in his chest, and positions himself like Youngjae’s mirror, head on the pillow, turned towards him, knees slightly bent. He exhales and whispers, “Youngjae?”

An answering wrinkle of his nose. Hesitantly, Daehyun reaches forward to brush the hair back from Youngjae’s forehead. When it falls back into place, Youngjae opens his eyes.

“Daehyun?” Youngjae asks, his voice smoky, his eyes like they are clearing of fog. “Daehyunnie?”

Daehyun’s breath hitches as a burning manifests in the backs of his eyes. He lets himself smile, cupping Youngjae’s cheek with his palm. “Youngjae, it’s you, right?”

“What happened to me? I don’t remember -- Was I asleep? How long was I asleep?”

His confusion could quickly mount to panic, Daehyun thinks, so he curbs it the best way he knows how. He closes the distance between them and kisses Youngjae on the lips, pulling him close, letting them fit against each other. Youngjae melts against him, returning the kiss like a man drowning and seeking the air in Daehyun’s lungs. When they pull apart, they are both breathing hard.

“What happened?” Youngjae asks again, their noses bumping against each other.

Daehyun says, “You were -- gone. For a whole day.”

“Gone?”

“I don’t know what happened,” Daehyun says, shaking his head, shifting closer against until he can bury his face against Youngjae’s chest. “You were gone and there was -- a boy. Another boy. I met him and he was so sad, Youngjae. But you were gone and I didn’t how to -- it was hard to feel anything when you weren’t around.”

“Why are you crying?” Youngjae murmurs, and Daehyun realizes that he is as he hiccups against Youngjae.

“I’m just happy you’re back,” he sobs. Youngjae’s fingers curl against the back of his head and hold him there. “Were you okay? Were you safe? Did you feel anything when you were -- gone?”

“No,” Youngjae says softly, hands traveling down to stroke lightly up and down Daehyun’s back. “It was weird. Like, I existed but I also didn’t really exist? But it was calm. Peaceful. But I also knew I had to get back to you. That there was something missing.”

Daehyun remembers closing his eyes and seeing white. Remembers that feeling of floating and calm smoothing everything over. “Himchan was the boy,” he says. “He said his name was Himchan. He was a student here, twenty -- thirty years ago?”

Youngjae’s hands stop moving. Curious, Daehyun glances up at him, taking in the way Youngjae is biting his lips. “What?” he asks, still basking in Youngjae’s hold. Youngjae doesn’t seem frightened by this information, just cautious.

“The name sounds familiar,” Youngjae says. “It’s a very unique name.”

“Yeah. There was something about it I couldn’t place, too.”

.

They get ready for class slowly, afraid to take their eyes off one another. Daehyun’s uniform is rumpled but Youngjae lets him borrow a new shirt, and when they are changed, Daehyun takes a moment to kiss Youngjae on the cheek. He’s going to be giving him as many kisses as he wants today, he thinks. Just in case.

Youngjae is quiet that morning, lost in thought. He looks the way he does when he’s studying for a big test, zoned out, but Daehyun can tell how quickly his brain is working behind those unfocused eyes. He doesn’t participate in class, which is rare. Worried when they are moving to their next class, Daehyun takes Youngjae by the elbow and pulls him to the side of the hallway as their peers weave around and then past them. Youngjae lets him, goes where he leads, and doesn’t protest when Daehyun cups his cheeks to make him look him in the eyes.

“Are you okay?” Daehyun asks, drawing in his lips.

“It’s weird to be back,” Youngjae says. “I was thinking about Himchan.”

“What about him?”

“Where did he go? Aren’t you curious?” Youngjae’s sharp eyes pierce him.

He is curious, but he’s cautious to think too much about it lest he lose Youngjae again. “He went,” Daehyun starts, “back to wherever you were. He must have. You said it was...peaceful there, right? Peaceful and good.”

“Why was he here, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Daehyun says, and it feels like a lie. “Himchan didn’t know either.”

Youngjae draws in a breath, still thinking, always thinking. Daehyun can’t help but think Youngjae came back different. He doesn’t know yet if this is a bad thing.

“Do you think he’ll be back?” Youngjae asks, tilting his head to the side. Daehyun doesn’t acknowledge the spark of interest the thought brings to him. He’d like to see Himchan again, maybe. Youngjae’s eyes are dark little galaxies all on their own, and Daehyun knows Youngjae can see right through him.

Instead of answering, Daehyun says, “We don’t have to go to class, Youngjae. We’ll say we got sick off the soul exchange. It happens sometimes.”

Youngjae gives him a long, hard look, before nodding slowly. “Yeah, okay.”

.

Back in Youngjae’s room, Daehyun begins to clean. He usually does this when Youngjae isn’t looking, but there’s nowhere to hide from each other now, and Daehyun doesn’t mind knowing that Youngjae is staring at him with a little smile on his face. Youngjae’s changed out of his uniform already, sitting on his bed in just his boxers and a plain white shirt.

“Don’t clean,” Youngjae whines. “Change out of your uniform and come here.”

When the last stack of books has been placed back on Youngjae’s shelves, Daehyun allows himself to undress. First, Youngjae’s shirt, then his uniform pants. They crinkle as he slides them down his legs.

“What the--” He digs into the pocket and brings out the photo of Himchan and Bbang, smoothing it out and tracing over Himchan’s smile with a single finger.

“What’s that?” Youngjae asks, beckoning him.

Daehyun walks over, sliding into bed with the picture, feeling Youngjae move up until he’s spooning him from behind with his chin hooked over Daehyun’s shoulder. “This is Himchan,” Daehyun says, pointing.

“Tell me about him.”

“He was nice,” Daehyun says, starting uncertainly. “He was...excited to be back. He likes eating, and the arcade, even though the one in his neighborhood is closed now. He said this was his best friend.” Daehyun points at Bbang, tracing over his smile, too. “Himchan said he didn’t have a soulmate. He wanted one, though.”

“Himchan and Bbang,” Youngjae mutters into Daehyun’s shoulder. “Himchan and Bbang...Himchan…” A moment of silence passes, and Daehyun twists in Youngjae’s hold to peer at him. “Student council,” Youngjae says with clarity. “That’s where the name’s familiar. He was on student council. There’s a -- there’s an award given out at the end of the year for community service, in his honor. He...passed away in a car accident.” Youngjae’s hold on him tightens. “I kind of look up to him.”

Daehyun breathes in Youngjae’s arms, feeling the space between them intimately. There’s still something missing, something like he’s waiting to be filled up. Something like a piece chipped out of them both. They still fit together, but now that piece has been made visible, and it's striking. “I think he belongs with us, Youngjae,” Daehyun dares, holding his breath after.

“How…?”

“I don’t know how, but he was here when it made no sense for him to be here. There are soul-bondings of more than two; that’s not strange. But I think -- the timing was off. He was meant to be here with us.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Daehyun.”

“Think about it,” Daehyun presses on, “don’t you feel like, now, there’s something -- missing?”

Youngjae frowns, pulling back slightly. “Like I’m not enough?”

“No,” Daehyun says emphatically. He clutches Youngjae tighter. “Never that. Just that there’s something more. Something we _could_ be.”

He waits long moments for Youngjae to respond, searching his eyes but finding nothing. Youngjae has always been so good at playing his cards close to his chest. “When I was gone,” Youngjae says, finally, “I kept hearing your voice, you know. You weren’t saying anything I can remember, but I knew it was your voice. But there was another voice, too. Almost like a smoker’s, gravelly and thick.”

Daehyun whispers, “Maybe that was Himchan.”

Youngjae nods, and then he curls around Daehyun like a cocoon. “This is crazy, Daehyun.”

“I know.”

“What do we do?”

Daehyun takes Youngjae’s hands in his, gathering them up against his chest, holding him there. It’s warm together, and safe, and for just a moment Daehyun feels the infinite gravity of being two children holding onto each other in a vast, unfathomable world. He kisses each of Youngjae’s knuckles and says, “We wait for Himchan to come back.”

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> /o\ i am unable to resist any and all soulmate stories sorry
> 
> title from e.e. cummings


End file.
